Christoph Always Loses

My apartment smelled like a brewery annex and looked like Ozzy Osbourne had gotten bored in it for several hours. The honest calculation—whether cleaning up or just moving out would leave me financially better off—was not coming down clearly in favor of staying.

This is what you get when you invite a collection of nerds and overgrown children over, stack a pile of Wii games in front of them, and open every conversation with a beer. The guests included the crews from Kopfbunt, Jeriko, Hundertmark, No Place To Hide, and P4ULCHEN, plus—most notable in terms of ambient conversation value—someone who’d recently been the boyfriend of a reasonably well-known music TV presenter, which made him about ten percent more interesting to everyone in the room.

We ate what felt like a thousand pizzas. We drank more beer than should be permitted at a residential address. And then we beat each other senseless across Mario Kart Wii, Super Smash Bros. Brawl, WarioWare: Smooth Moves, and New Super Mario Bros. Wii, and no eyes stayed dry—mostly because Christoph lost every single game. Every one. There are witnesses.

Even Malte, who openly admits to Peter Pan syndrome and might therefore have had some theoretical advantage, couldn’t touch what I’d spent years building: the precise use of mushrooms, the transformation of princesses, the controlled shake of the long controller. I won everything. I’m telling you because I need you to know.

Christoph has already invited me to wreck his place next time. I’ve mentally accepted.